Virtue Kills
by SopheroniPepperoni
Summary: Nate had been the soldier, but the Commonwealth had made her one, too, and Nora had quickly learned to expect the unexpected. After all, the rough-and-tumble Commonwealth, lawless in comparison to Pre-War Boston, viewed her as a pillar of virtue. And as she was coming to show those who stood in her way, virtue could kill.


**AN: In case you couldn't tell, I LOVE exploring the quiet moments that don't make it into the final cuts of things. Takes place somewhere** **between Blind Betrayal and the Battle of Bunker Hill, so spoilers for those things. I felt like Danse would not be happy with some of the decisions Nora was making in-game, and wanted to do some necessary development. Obvs, I don't own FO4 or anything by the Ink Spots.**

 **Also, shoutout to awritingpromptaday on tumblr for the idea! Go check them out if you're stuck with writing.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

1: Virtue Kills

"I don't like this, Nora." Danse stood in front of her, arms crossed against his broad chest and a thundercloud on his brow.

Nora sat in front of him, perched on the edge of her desk, her favorite rifle in her lap as she studiously inspected it - and ignored him. "Danse, we've been over this."

The sun was shining cheerily through the bedroom window, and the radio burbled happily from somewhere in the house. Her hair glinted a warm copper.

He was alive, and he was with her, and he should be happy.

But he wasn't. This was the one major blemish on their relationship, and it needed to be handled accordingly. But here she was, once again shrugging it off and shutting him down. In all the time he had known her, he had never been so infuriated with her.

"You're walking a very thin line, Nora! Being a double agent between hostile factions? Fighting to liberate synths?" He gestured angrily with his hands. "And now you're intentionally going to disobey a direct order from a Brotherhood superior!" He glowered at her, his accusations hot between them, yet all-too familiar. "Look at yourself, Nora! I thought the Brotherhood taught you better than this."

Finally, her cool blue-green eyes met his, sharp as steel and cold as ice. "As you can recall, I've disobeyed Brotherhood orders before."

"I didn't ask you to."

"So you expected me to just be able to walk in there and, what, shoot you? After all we've been through?" She sounded tired, but her eyes were bright and cold. "For all I care, Danse, the Brotherhood could be leveled, and the Prydwyn with it, after how they treated you. There certainly is no love lost there." Seeing his hackles rise, she hastily held up a quelling hand. "Think about it for a second. I know we don't exactly see eye to eye about synths or ghouls or mutants-"

"You've got that right-"

"But think about it! Danse!" Nora raised her voice in an uncharacteristic display of anger. She jumped off the desk, jabbing a finger against Danse's chest. "The Railroad is not all bad- they fight so synths can have freedom, so they can have a choice with their lives. The Institute hunts down synths- not unlike the way the Brotherhood treats them- and wipes their memories. You may not see them as people, Danse; hell, I didn't always myself." She flattened her hand against him, placing it over his all-too-human heartbeat. "How can you not see this, _see us_ , and have different feelings? Danse, the Institute would hunt you down and wipe your memory too, if you became a big enough problem to them! This-" she gestured between them, "would be gone."

As suddenly as it had come, the firestorm inside her quieted, and she stepped away from him. The line of demarcation between them was starkly clear. "I made this decision for us. It's only right that I give others the same chance." Nora observed the former paladin, took in the slight flare of his nostrils, the heaving of his chest, the angry redness of his face. He didn't look happy, but he wasn't storming out, either.

"I'm not asking you to be okay with my decisions. After this, I won't even ask you to be okay with _me_ , if this is too much." Her gaze was earnest, beseeching; an ocean wave breaking against a stony cliff face. "But I _am_ asking you to try to understand. To at least _try_."

She shrugged, all of a sudden feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. Having finally found someone to share the burden with, she wasn't sure if she was prepared to take the responsibility on by herself. Again. She turned away, gazing across time and space to another world, another life. Her voice was soft and, Danse thought, strained. "This is something I need to do by myself. I've dragged you all down with me long enough. When all of this mess is said and done, I won't blame you if I come back and you're not here."

That punched him in the gut like a powerfist. For a second he hated her, hated that she thought him so invincible, so cold and unfeeling, that she would even suggest that he could make it without her. The thought of returning - _alone_ \- to the bunker, bereft of both her and the Brotherhood, waiting until the day his heart- _no, his programming_ \- went out, was nearly too much for him to bear. He regarded her silently, his tactician's mind at work. After all they'd been through- impossible firefights against deathclaws, toppling behemoths and mirelurk queens, destroying ferals by the dozen- Maxson and Shaun, and standing on this great precipice of the world, a world who found itself at the mercy of a pre-war vault dweller, a lone woman bent on vengeance and justice in a world that practiced the former and scarcely knew the latter- surely this thing, this flame, between them that was at once impossibly small and fragile and new, and yet strong and unbreakable and binding...

Surely it could survive.

"People are going to get hurt, Nora." It was an understatement and he knew it.

Still staring out at the wasteland, she sighed, "Yes, they are. But we've been hurt too, Danse." _I've been hurt. "_ War is coming, and Nate used to tell me that it never changes. People get hurt on both sides. There are _innocents_ on both sides. But sometimes, _sometimes_ , someone needs to stand up and throw the first punch in order to get things to change." She turned back to him, some of the fire back in her eyes. "Kellogg hurt me when he murdered my husband and took my son. Maxson hurt me when he ordered me to execute you -I'd lost one love of my life, and he expected me to kill my second with my own hand?-"

Something in Danse stuttered on "love of my life."

"-hell, my own son hurt me! The Commonwealth is not an easy, nice place to live. People get hurt all the time. It's how we survive." Nora looked pained to speak those words. Danse knew that she had tried to do right by everyone she met, bringing a fresh sense of duty and justice to the harsh land around them. Whether she would ever recognize it or not, Nora had stepped out of the cryogenic tube all that time ago in order to change a world in which she did not belong.

He wanted to stay mad at her, but his resolve crumbled in the brittle silence. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. Testing the waters. She shifted slightly, and he stepped even closer, folding her in his arms when she turned into him. She did not cry; rather, she rested her head against him and they stood there together, each lost in their own tumultuous thoughts.

Danse knew this wound wasn't quite healed- they hadn't let it scab over enough to begin with- but for now it was enough to hold Nora, to stand together against the incoming tide that surely threatened to wash away the Commonwealth and leave nothing alive in its wake.

He had been a soldier long enough to know when war was coming. He still didn't know which side he'd be standing on when the inevitable bombs fell.

* * *

Save for the Pipboy radio, the night air was quiet around her. It held a briskness to it, marking over a year since Nora had first stepped out of Vault 111. And what a world she had stepped into. At first her two goals had been to survive and find Shaun. Along the way, life had invariably gotten more complicated as she got sucked into helping the people around her. With a mirthless huff of a laugh, Nora realized that her law degree had almost gotten more use in this hell hole of a landscape, than in her pre-war home.

Not for the first time (but for the first time in a long while) she wondered what Nate would have to say about the place. She wondered how he would have handled things. She wondered if he would have moved on after her, if their roles had been reversed; she wondered if he would have fallen for another so quickly.

She could say with certainty, however, that Nate would not hold her with the same guilt and shame about the whole thing with which she held herself. God, Danse and Nate were just so _similar_ in many ways. At first she had been disgusted with her initial attractions, thinking her subconscious was trying to bring Nate back from the grave by pursuing the stubborn Brotherhood Paladin. But as time passed, and as she got to know him better, she realized just how the two men in her life were different- starkly, now that Danse had been revealed to be a synth, of all things.

She had meant what she had said to him, that night in Diamond City after leaving the bunker. They had needed supplies before continuing on to Sanctuary, and the allure of Home Plate and safe city walls that rarely saw Brotherhood soldiers had beckoned her to stay. There, in the safety of darkness, they had finally been able to name what was between them, her reassuring him that he was real - _human-_ to her and that was all that mattered. Honestly, nine times out of ten she forgot he wasn't even human, not technically.

It was something she knew both of them were taking a day at a time.

The Pipboy crackled as a new song warbled across the airwaves. Here at least she could find some solace in the midst of her crazy life. Of all things, Travis decided to play Pre-War music on Diamond City's radio station. The swelling, brassy songs were welcoming and comforting to her, and times like this -the overwhelming times before she had found Danse- she liked to sit on one of the watchtowers near the bridge and watch the stars.

Those, thankfully, also hadn't changed while she had been on ice.

Knees pulled up to her chest, her lightly freckled face looked upward at the twinkling lights. All in all, she had come to appreciate these small, quiet miracles in this mad, brave new world.

Footfalls sounded to her right, and she glanced at the intruder out of the corner of her eye. Danse, she had found, was able to move surprisingly quietly when he was out of his power armor. He was wearing that bomber jacket and those boots they had found during their trip to Diamond City. She'd be kidding herself if the sight of him out of his armor still didn't make her weak in the knees.

Drawling guitar notes popped out across the airwaves. The singer crooned _I don't want to set the world on fire/ I just want to start a flame in your heart!_ How appropriate, she thought. Danse had started a flame in her heart, for sure.

He stopped a few feet away, off to one side. Unsure, unlike himself. He coughed. "May I join you?"

Nora scooted over by way of an answer, patting the space next to her to put him at ease. "I think there's enough room for two."

A small smile flickered across Danse's face. He lowered himself to the wood platform of the defense tower, leaving a few inches between them. She could still feel the warmth from him and his broad shoulders, warmth that the night breeze couldn't whisk that away. It could, however, take away hers.

She shivered slightly.

"Are you cold, soldier?" Nora could hear the way the title fell flat, impersonal, between them. For a second, her irritation at his façade threatened to bubble up and out again. Instead, she tamped it down and scooted closer into his side, humming softly when he obliged by wrapping his arm around her slight shoulders. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the soft and steady beat of his - _humanhumanhuman_ \- heart.

The moment was too soft for loud voices; she kept hers pitched low. "What have you been up to?" He smelled like soap and power armor grease and metal. She could hazard a guess.

His voice rumbled up through his chest and into her heart, just as soft as hers. "I wanted to make some tune-ups to the new suit. Last time we were out, it didn't handle like I thought it should. Wanted to run some diagnostics." His heart stop-stuttered. "I also took a look at yours. It's outstanding, as always."

Nora smiled. "What can I say? Learned from the best."

He was quiet for a moment. "Nora, I wanted to apologize for today-"

She moved to sit up, but his arm tightened against her, keeping her against his side. "Danse, there's no need. Your feelings are valid. I'm glad for your input, even though we may disagree."

Danse continued as if she hadn't spoken. "I just want you to know that I am thinking about it, about what you've said. You've given me _a lot_ to think about, and I need time. This relationship, my new place in the world, is a lot to take in. Just give me some time. My programming," he coughed, " _My feelings_ aren't going to change overnight." He shifted against her. "I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about myself, even though you've told me it doesn't change the way that _you_ feel. Times like this, I wish I could see the Commonwealth the way you do, Nora, with fresh eyes that see the shades of gray. I'm learning that life isn't as black and white as I thought." He relaxed slightly, his thoughts trailing off into the night breeze.

She thought for a moment, soaking up his admission, remembering. "These times are normal for couples. Disagreements help make people stronger together."

"That's an idealistic view."

"But it's not incorrect. Danse, we've been through worse than this before, whether we realize it or not." She settled herself deeper against him, shifting her legs slightly. "This too shall pass." A few beats spread between them before Nora spoke again. "I appreciate your apology. I'm sorry, too."

After a moment, she felt him press a kiss to her hair. "Thanks for being honest with me."

They sat like that for a time, listening to the golden oldies and watching the stars go by overhead. Things still weren't perfect, but they were better than they had left them that morning, and when Danse suggested, to her surprise, that they get out of the cold and get each other warm, Nora couldn't contain the butterflies in her stomach nor the flame he had stoked alive in her heart.

* * *

"I think that's everything."

Danse glanced at her sidelong. "You think, or you know?"

Nora looked up to shoot him an irritated glare, softening when she saw the concern in his brown eyes. She stood by the workbench in Sanctuary, going over her plan with Preston and Danse. It was another bright morning, she had woken up languidly, with her muscles pleasantly stretched and relaxed, and her pack was ready to go. She only wished she didn't need to go by herself, let alone to the Institute. Even though it was led by her son, it was quickly becoming a thorn in her side.

She double checked the fastenings of her armor. "Preston, I'm leaving you in charge. I trust Sanctuary will function just fine without me." She gave him a wry smile; he shrugged at her humor good naturedly.

Checking her pack again, she said "Danse, you're welcome to stay here while I'm gone; the Brotherhood doesn't tramp up this far north." She paused in thought, dredging up a memory. "Or, Abernathy Farm down the way is having generator problems; I remember reading their report. They'll welcome your help if you get tired of hanging around here." She smiled at him.

Sensing an impending goodbye, Preston excused himself with a cough and a "Be safe, General," before heading out to patrol the settlement.

Danse stood in front of her, stalwart despite his misgivings about her mission. He wished she would at least take her power armor; without him there with her, her black BOS suit and modified combat armor seemed woefully insufficient. However, she was the stealth in their two-man outfit, and she needed it for the coming weeks.

He tried to commit to memory the way the morning sun glinted off the copper waves of her hair, or the way her cheeks were flushed in anticipation of her trip. Her full lips, still just a bit swollen from being thoroughly kissed, quirked up in a smile.

"I won't be gone long, I hope. If anything, I'll try to stop by in between stages." She rubbed the space between her eyes. " I don't know how long that will be, though."

"I'll try to make myself useful while you're gone." He wished he could go with her.

She stepped closer, and he gathered her close. Even out of his power armor, she was still small against him, fitting under his chin. She breathed him in, running her cheek against the rough fabric of his shirt, soaking in the feeling of being in his arms. She knew he wasn't happy with her decision, but he was respecting it. They could work with that.

She tilted her head up for a kiss, and he obliged, tightening his arms around her. She sighed against him; Nora had always hated goodbyes. Danse was certainly trying his hardest to make a lasting impression with this one, trying to entice her to come back quickly.

To come back to him safe and whole.

And if she had anything to say about it all, she would. Really, Danse was making a very convincing case for himself.

Cupping his stubbled cheek, she pulled back. "I love you, Danse." She did; their recent bumps didn't change that.

He smiled, emotion smoldering in his dark eyes. "I love you too."

And then she was walking away, wanting to go before she lost her nerve. He called out to her:

"Come home soon. That's an order." She turned to see that cocky smirk he had developed, and offered a mock salute in return. They both knew that this could go sideways in three seconds flat, that she might not come home. Nate had been the soldier, but the Commonwealth had made her one, too, and Nora had quickly learned to expect the unexpected. After all, the rough-and-tumble Commonwealth, lawless in comparison to Pre-War Boston, viewed her as a pillar of virtue.

And as she was coming to show those who stood in her way, virtue could kill.


End file.
